SCENE I

The great hall of the imperial Divan. In the "background, covered by a curtain, an altar with a Chinese idol; two priests standing beside it. ALTOUM on his throne, the doctors on their cushions, PANTALONE and TARTAGLIA on each side of the EMPEROR. ALTOUM, PANTALONE, TARTAGLIA, the DOCTORS, the GUARDS. Later CALAF. (Enter CALAF excitedly from right. He looks round uneasily and suspiciously. When he arrives at the middle of the room he bows to ALTOUM.)

CALAF (aside). How's this? No trace of ambushed murderers? Did the slave lie? Can Turandot have found The names out, and rescinded her commands? Then I lose all. Death had been better far. ALTOUM. My son, you seem excited and in fear, And I were fain had you a merry face. Now all is well. Your sorrows are at end. Glad tidings that concern you I will save A little while. As for my daughter, she Is yours. She sent to me thrice in the night Petitioning release from this encounter. Therefore I charge you, son, be of good cheer! PANTALONE. Heaven knows, my dearest Royal Highness, I myself had to trot off in the night to pay a call on her Royal Highness in the Seraglio and receive her most illustrious commands. I didn't even have the time to tumble into my slippers and get dressed properly. And it was so cold, Heaven knows (coughs), I'm shivering yet. Never mind! Never mind! TARTAGLIA. They fetched me out of bed at 5 a.m. It was just beginning to get light a bit. She made me stand in front of her half an hour while she went on whining something or other. For sheer cold and vexation I talked the most clotted nonsense to her. (Aside.) It would have suited my humour better if I could have given her a downright good spanking. ALTOUM. You see yourself: she is so slow in coming. I have already sent explicit orders In case of need to bring her here by force. Here she shall stand and learn to blush, a pain She would not let me spare her. Therefore, son, Take good heart at the prospect of near joy. CALAF. I crave your pardon, sire, and give you thanks! I am tormented by most fearful doubts, And by the thought that for my sake she now Is suffering shame and force. Much rather... No Not that. If I do lose her, what remains To me of life? With time and tenderness I will compel her to forget this rage. My will shall be her wish, my heart her heart. For her sake I will grant what either asks, And my love's banner be: Fidelity! ALTOUM. Let there be no more dallying! This Divan Be changed into a temple, so that she, Soon as she enters here, may recognize That I too have a will. Prepare the marriage. Unveil the altar. (The curtain in the background opens, and the altar with the priests is seen.) PANTALONE. She's coming, my dear Lord Chancellor, she's coming. I believe I can already hear her whining. TARTAGLIA. The accompaniment does at all events sound decidedly dismal. That's what I call a genuine wedding march, just the same as for a funeral.